Old Lessons, New Man
by InspireTheFire
Summary: The Doctor faces solitude, past regrets, and a life lesson, but he finds it in the strangest way he can imagine: through one of his own enemies! Perhaps he needs a new perspective on life. First Doctor Who fanfiction! A bit odd. Rated K for language and the feels. Please tell me if you think the rating should go up.


Hello there! Thanks for looking at my short little story here! Please see end of story for author's notes.

**Old Lessons, New Man **

The Doctor is now alone in his TARDIS and without any companions.

He begins his ancient ritual of finding adventure in the universe once more; after all, there is much to see, much to do, and many people to meet.

Allowing the always reliable TARDIS to determine his destination for him, the good Doctor buries his grief deep in his core, plasters on a happy façade, and sets to work directing the numerous switches, buttons, and knobs that control the blue box.

Adventure waits patiently.

The Doctor arrives on the Earth, in a distant time period; perhaps in another dimension altogether.

The Earth; humans.

The Doctor can't help but smile; humans were always his favourite species. So unique, so different, and surprising at every turn.

And every one of them important.

Gleeful at the prospect of new friends, the Doctor dashes hurriedly about, taking in the enticing sights, sounds, and senses as they dance around him.

Earth was always such a lovely place.

The Doctor greets new friends ecstatically, shaking hands, tipping an imaginary hat; it would appear he has travelled to a much older England.

He laughs, amazes his newfound friends, enjoys the company of his humans.

But peace never stays around for long. The Doctor knows this. It's like a beautiful curse.

It isn't long until rumours of curious, strange happenings reach the Doctor's ears. Every word he hears crushes him, forces him back to the hardships of reality, tears off his intangible wings and drops him unceremoniously to the floor.

He can no longer fly. He crawls.

Gossiping lips have whispered about an Angel; a sorrowful Angel that devours and ensnares.

The Doctor weeps inside.

This was the past. The Angels still hunted. They hunted for the ultimate time source.

A Timelord would do nicely.

The eternal battle of good and evil, although it has never fully ceased, begins to grind its ancient wheels, whirring to life.

The Doctor has won (mostly) before, and he'll be damned if he doesn't win again.

And so he devotes his energy to stopping them. Force them to look at each other, send them spiraling into different dimensions, obliterate their last escape routes; the Doctor has labored. His work bears fruit.

But deception is a clever, cruel device. It is relentless in its goals.

Our hero rests on a cemetery bench. Peaceful company the dead make.

The air around him shifts. It grows melancholy, dead and heavy as the bodies in the soil. The Doctor's mouth quirks into a smile.

"You're so clever. Terrifying, but beautiful. Elegant." He addresses the lone Angel before him. It appears to be weeping.

But not in intelligent disguise, as the Angels were apt to do, in order to trick their prey. Real tears set in stone. Immortalized.

"The last of your kind. It's a rather lonely occupation, I admit. No one remains who can fully understand. But look at you. A creature so full of hatred and hunger, evolved to be the ultimate predator, unbreakable. But even stones can be broken."

The Doctor almost felt pity for the demon in angel's guise. Almost.

"You can't be allowed to continue. You only know how to destroy. I'd be doing the universe a favor. You're nothing more than a monster, insatiable in every way. You took my… friends. Your tears are not tears of grief over your kin; they're for yourself. A lonely, weeping Angel."

With that the Doctor stood, slowly and deliberately.

He had terminated species before; surely he could do it again. No remorse.

But as he composed the Angel's destruction in his head, he found that he faltered and hesitated.

It only took a moment, a split second in time.

His thoughts had trailed to Amy and Rory, disappearing before his very eyes, completely lost to him. He had been powerless. Defeated. Burnt.

And in that blip of time, his eyes closed, whether in defeat or instinctively, he could not tell.

The Doctor felt that smooth marble touch his hand. It wasn't a touch meant to deal physical harm, but rather a gentle, pitiable whisper of fingers.

He opened his eyes.

It couldn't be.

It mustn't be.

How can it be?

Gallifrey.

The Doctor's home.

Alive and thriving, life radiating from every corner his sight could reach.

A touch. The Angel still held onto his wrist, frozen in its stony exterior. Its expression looked knowing.

How it managed to travel back in time with his victim could not be considered by the Doctor at the time.

This was the final Angel's final revenge.

To remind his final enemy of his own, final solitude.

The Doctor fought the urge to show emotion. He must remain unattached; this couldn't possibly be true. He had attempted returning to Gallifrey in the past. It simply would not work, despite his efforts; Gallifrey and her people were fixed in time. Nothing would change. And the Doctor would not allow himself the selfish pleasure of seeing his friends and family again. Not when he knew what he eventually did to them. _No_, he corrected, _what I did_ for _them_.

The Timelord shut his eyes.

When he opened them, he hadn't moved from his position on top of the overlook of a massive, shining building. But the sky was different; darker, more malevolent than the bright orange and purple hues from before. Brown smoke dissipated and curled on itself like sea foam around naked toes.

The Time War.

It was unmistakable. The Doctor would always remember this one point in time and space. It was engrained into him, no matter how much he strained to crush it behind memories of happier times. He found that he could not speak.

So in silence, trapped by the Angel's vice like grip, the Doctor watched the death of his people.

He checked them off one by one in his head.

_Mother._

_Father._

_Brother dear._

_Teacher._

_Friend._

_Lover here._

_Daughter._

_Son._

_Master near._

_Will their screams be the only thing I hear?_

He wept.

No more strength. No more bravado.

The Doctor, the one who heals others' pain, would never be able to heal his own again.

He fell to his knees, surrendering to his darkest sorrows.

Perhaps this is how he was meant to die. Really die; no more regeneration. It was impossible to leave this dying planet. He had no TARDIS, and the Angel could not transport them back to the present day. Heartbreak: the Doctor's truest enemy.

Only a miracle could intervene.

And one did, of course.

This was not the Doctor's time; the moment was not etched in stone, and the universe still had plans for him. He had adventures to unveil, mysteries to solve, and new companions to meet.

Lives still had to be saved.

The Doctor sought not to question how he ended up lying in the grass of present day London. The Angel was nowhere to be seen, although it had left its mark on the Doctor's wrist in the form of a red impression on his skin.

Funny.

Funny how one tiny touch can do so much. It can heal, destroy, create, or instigate new life.

And the Doctor found his new life. It bubbled inside him, from his deepest core.

The very fact that he was alive was a miracle in and of itself. He knew firsthand that each life was precious.

He stood up, weakly at first, but with building force and purpose. His TARDIS was sitting patiently for him, almost laughing and asking him "What took you so long, thief?"

The Doctor pushed his face against the blue box, hand running slowly down the wood, eyes carefully drinking in every curve and bend of the patterns sketched by time. Yes, life was still worth living. It may be riddled with past regrets, fears and anguishes, but somewhere out there he still had a job to do. People to meet, lives to save, and happiness to be found.

Perhaps this was why he loved humans so much.

Although they suffer, some more than others, they preserver. Their pasts serve to shape their futures, and instead of letting regrets and guilt hinder them, they use their insightful knowledge to better other people's lives.

They are so full of hidden love, and each one is unique and brilliant and amazing. They reminded the Doctor of the Timelords.

Brave, intelligent, wonderful, exciting, special, precious, and capable of so much.

Yes, perhaps the humans were his new family.

Family is love, and oh, how the Doctor loves his humans.

He loves to show them the wonders of the universe, to amaze them, impress them, and show them their own capabilities and importance.

The Doctor slipped inside the TARDIS, taking his sadness with him, but forcing it to shape and form into experience and knowledge. He owed it to the humans, and his companions, not to let raw emotion corrode his life.

After all, all life was precious.

Even the Doctor's.

And, though it pains him to say, perhaps even the lone Angel's. That demon in angel's guise was not purposed to destroy the Doctor. No, that Angel was meant to bring the Doctor his new life, whether he realized it or not, by reviving his deepest pains, but giving him another chance at real, genuine life.

The Doctor laughed, "Such is the relationship between Tiger and Lamb. Now! Let's go find new friends."

Blessings do come in the strangest ways.

And with that the TARDIS whirred away, taking her beloved, amazing, sometimes childish Doctor with her, and together they would face and survive the wonders of the universe.

Phew! I hope that wasn't _too _awful! This is so unlike how I usually write, that I'm a bit hesitant to upload this, but what the Gallifrey, let's do it anyway! More likely than not this has a lot of mistakes. I wrote it in 40 minutes and without an information source, so the parts regarding Weeping Angels, Gallifrey, or the Time War are probably... less than faithful to the show. Oh well. That's why reviews are always lovely, so I can learn from my mistakes! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! This is my first Doctor Who fanfiction, so be gentle. Or not. You can go crazy if you want to. Living la vida Loki.


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